Jump Up

 

 

I went to fore day morning

Sleep-in

And when the phone rang

I was sleeping.

 

I’m accustomed getting up

Very early

But at fore day morning

I was too sleepy.

 

I thought it was fore day

When I jump up

But around quarter of eight

My sleep got disrupt.

 

 Hours earlier

Before fore day morning,

I was glued to the calypsonians

Competing.

 

So, as you’d understand

I went to sleep kind of late

Or differently, early in the morning,

As I could also state.

 

When the phone rang

I had to catch myself,

Jumping up fore day morning

Is not good for one’s health.

 

 

But low and behold

While myself, I was catching,

I heard the garbage truck,

It was out collecting.

 

We had had a collection

Only two days before

But here, just two days after,

Up they showed.

 

So, I had to jump up

And pull the garbage together

And then run down to the next gap,

Boy, what a bother!

 

Especially in this heat

Because these days real hot!

But to miss a garbage collection,

You could be in a spot.

 

That’s my fore day morning

And my jump up

So, if you thought anything else

You bust luck!

 

Kudos to the SSA workers

That had to jump up

During this fore day morning

To ride on a truck…

 

To collect your garbage

And also collect mine,

We ought to really commend them

And not condemn this time.

 

Some jump up occasionally

And some do it every day,

Depending on the garbage situation

Jump up is their way.

 

So, when you hear jump up

Don’t let your mind run away,

It could be awaking from sleep

Or, garbage collection day.

 

Stewart Russell © August 5, 2023

 

Simpleton’s Response

 

 

You’d recall Christmas morning

And how Moron behaved in church,

And Simpleton’s annoyance with him

And how much she felt hurt.

 

Embarrassed is a better word,

It was in front of her church family

And as expected, on reaching home,

She exploded angrily.

 

“Moron by name and nature!”

She shouted at the top of her voice,

“You forced me to act violently in church

Thus giving me no choice.”

 

Your behavior was deplorable

And that is the least that I can say,

I thought you’d have made an exception

At least for Christmas Day.

 

And what did you expect?

That’s the suit you wear to funerals,

And besides the jacket is big enough

To comfortably hold two people.

 

Contrastingly I must add,

The shoes are one size too small

And obviously they will burn you,

That is all!

 

You kept pulling at your tie

As though you are a little child

And what is more, that atrocious frown

Made you look like you had died.

 

 

As a matter of fact, dear Moron,

I really wish you had

For you would have behaved better

And I wouldn’t feel so bad.

 

And worst of all, my pastor,

When he began his preaching,

Before he finished reading the Scripture

You were already sleeping.

 

Hence, the punch in your ribs

And that rude awakening!

It was my way of saying, dear Moron,

You should be listening.

 

And tell me what did you hear

If anything at all?

Yet, when the service finally ended

You applauded the loudest of all.” 

 

 

I guess you must be saying

Moron’s wife cannot be a simpleton

For all that she has said so far

Is of a sensible expression.

 

But you would recall, dear reader,

While Moron wanted to get home

And even as we speak, my friend,

He is in another zone.

 

While Simpleton was pontificating

Moron was actually sleeping,

And hence, he never could respond

While his wife was speaking.

 

Yes, so finally you get it,

Simpleton was talking to herself

But in this there is some consolation,

Regarding her mental health.

 

I hear it’s good to talk to yourself

But never to answer back

So, Simpleton had a talk with herself,

But it never became a chat.

 

For to have become a chat

She would have had to answer back,

In this she was particularly clever

Since a responder she had lacked.

 

Quite fitting for one another:

Our Simpleton and Moron,

A perfect match, you may disagree,

Though a confusing union.

 

Stewart Russell © December 10, 2022

Christmas in Rerun

Shopsmart or Pricemart

Where do I start?

Already behind

And Christmas is near

Popular and Massy

Carlton and A One

Don’t know where to start

And time nearly gone

Several strings of lights

All tangled up

To get them sort out

I will need some luck

Delayed the cleaning

Should have done it long ago

Everything in a mess

Could barely see out a window

Floor needs scrubbing

Don’t feel up to the rubbing

Under the beds needs cleaning

And the wife screaming

Everyday I’m promising

To do something in the home

But I don’t have the feeling

I think I hear the phone

“You start de cleaning yet?”

That’s the wife and she vex

She’s calling to see if I start

But I just don’t have the heart

“Honey I will start soon

Soon as I finish what I’m doing.”

“I am tired of that tune.

I could see trouble brewing.”

“Last year was the same thing

And I did everything myself

You got off scotch free

And I nearly ruin my health.”

  

The wife getting hot

I had better do something quick

Or before you know it

Christmas will find her sick

If only I could make a start

I would do all this in a hurry

The problem is where to start

That is my real worry

Should I start with the cleaning?

Or should I do some shopping?

Should I scrub the floor?

Or should I paint the door?

I could do the windows first

Or perhaps wipe off the ceiling

However I juggle this order

None of it seems appealing

I think I’ll start in the house

Then move out to the lawn

Wait, something is coming on

You guess right; it is a yawn

I’ll give it some more thought

Then I’ll take a little rest

All of this thinking has me tired

I need to be at my best

When I awake from sleep

My mind will be very clear

And I’ll know where to start

Concerning Christmas this year

I’ll just make absolutely sure

The wife doesn’t find me in bed

Cause if that were to happen

I would wish that I were dead

So the first thing on my list

Is a couple hours of sleep

Just to clear this mind of mine

So that my thinking can be deep

After the much needed rest

I will think this through again

And plan to start outside

Especially if it begins to rain

It is critically important for Christmas

To plan what you have to do

For without a well thought out plan

You are likely to drop through

Sleep is therefore important

And lots and lots of it

The wife does not understand this

But that has become my habit

Especially If I have something to do

I find I need much rest

And the more rest I get

The more I am up to the test

So Christmas comes and passes

And more is left undone than done

And every successive Christmas

Is my Christmas in rerun

But there is the consolation

That after Christmas life goes on

And such tasks can still be completed

Even after Christmas has gone

Stewart Russell © 2016

Asleep and Adrift

 

If a man is sleeping

Leave him alone,

Find someone else

With whom to pick a bone.

He has worked hard

Preparing for bed

Let him lie down

And rest his head.

But this is urgent

I hear you whine

But if he’s still sleeping

It’s not a good time.

We had a contract

He made a promise

Much to be dealt with

There is a long list.

To whom can I turn?

Who else can I try?

Is there none awake

On whom I can rely?

Where are the others

That signed on the line?

Are they sleeping too?

Even at this time?

They too are resting

But talk in their sleep,

And whatever they say

Is never complete.

If a man is sleeping

Leave him alone,

Find someone else

With whom to pick a bone.

But he promised

To meet my need,

He said to me,

“I’m a friend indeed.

My door is open,

No need to knock,

If I’m not there

I’m on the block.”

Now I am calling

He’s sleeping, stalling,

This is appalling,

Everything is falling.

When can I return?

When he is awake,

When will that be?

During his next break.

What do you mean?

Please explain to me

Help me understand

About this mystery.

Every now and again

He turns on his side,

To seize the moment

You must here abide.

Whenever he awakes

Something will be said,

What a defining moment!

He doesn’t lift his head.

How he’s able to do it

All we can do is guess,

He is savvy and adept

At sleeping through a mess.

I’m begging you please

Tell to him my name,

He’ll make an exception

To rid me of this pain.

If a man is sleeping

Leave him alone,

Find someone else

With whom to pick your bone.

Any man who sleeps

And takes naps in between

Is in a dream world

That is clear to be seen.

So better to let him sleep

Never ever disturb

The solution he offers

Will make you more perturb.

You think he’s awake

Attending your concern

But he’s asleep, adrift

Doesn’t care if you burn.

  

For how could he care

When he is fast asleep?

He doesn’t hear a thing

Not even when alarms beep.

One thing I can tell you

You can believe it or not,

Trying to wake this man

Is trying to wake a big rock.

You’d better find another,

However hard you search

The chances are anyhow,

You’d still be left in the lurch.

So if he is sleeping

Better leave him alone,

Go and find someone else

With whom to pick your bone.

Stewart Russell © 2014